“My faith, yes! they might well be. The clover is thick as--as thy hair, my Gretli! Not one of them but desired two mouths that she might eat the faster.”
“La Dumaine led the way well? But why do I ask? Surely she did!”
“She is a queen indeed! There is no such leader in these Alps. Once only that one--” a jerk of the head conveyed, somehow, one could not tell how, that “that one” was the Duchess of Montbazon--“tried to push ahead, and got a thrust in the side from our Queen’s horn that sent her back roaring, I promise you. _Saperli poppette!_ in the home yard La Dumaine is the _gentille demoiselle_, see you; on the Alp she is General as well as Queen.”
“And thou hast left Jean and François in charge? Didst sleep in the hut? All was well?”
“All well, my sister! except--I have brought the appetite of a wolf! But who is that at the window? _Tiens!_ the little mademoiselle with golden hair! How then, my sister?”
“Zitli will tell you!” cried Gretli. “I must prepare supper on the instant. Hast had nothing, I’ll warrant, for a day and a half, but bread and cheese, and I stand here chattering!”
She hurried in. Zitli told in eager detail, with many gestures, the story of Bimbo’s assault and its consequences, and Atli hastened to greet Honor and to express his sympathy and regret.
“That nefarious beast! he should be sewed in his own skin turned inside out. But what would you, mademoiselle? A goat, that has no moral sense. The good God, in making this beast, omitted it, for reasons known only to Himself. I am desolated; yet I trust mademoiselle is not too uncomfortable? What honor for the _Châlet des Rochers_ to receive such a guest! Be still, creatures! I come!” This to the goats, who were bleating and leaping about him, making soft runs and butts against his columnar legs. “A moment, my sister, while I feed the creatures and greet our Tell, who barks his head off in calling me; then I come, a wolf indeed!”
The table was drawn up beside Honor’s window-seat, that she might join the family party. Gretli laid the plates of heavy dark green crockery, and the carved wooden cups, Zitli’s handiwork, as she proudly explained. There were sausages for supper, and ham, black bread and cheese, with honey and cream and _biscuits des Rochers_ for dessert. No great variety is to be looked for in a Swiss châlet, but everything was so good, Honor thought she would never ask for anything different.